


Messy

by Haberdasher



Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 17:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: The story behind a messy dorm room at Elsewhere University.





	Messy

I have a room to myself. It’s easier that way.

There’s a reason some call me Pigpen, you see. My dorm room is... well, on the rare occasions in which I’ve allowed others to see it, I believe “messy” was the term used most often, with some straying into more colorful language when describing it. And I see where they’re coming from, really, but if my room is messy, well, it’s going to stay that way, because I can’t see myself parting with a single thing.

Take the shoes stuffed into the far corners of the closet, the glossy red high heels- they don’t fit quite right, admittedly, but they’re gorgeous, and it would be foolish to part with such beauty.

The board games shoved under the bed haven’t been played for years, it’s true, but they hold fond memories of a happy family gathering around to pass the time with one another, and those memories are worth preserving, worth keeping around, even though the games may never be played again.

There’s the marshmallows strewn across the desk- sure, they expired over a year ago, but they were given as a gift, as a gesture of goodwill and community, and what kind of person would I be if I simply threw away a gift? Not a wise one, that’s for sure.

There’s the human baby tooth tucked into one corner of the dresser, which, truth be told, doesn’t do much of anything, but it was a coming-of-age experience losing it, in a way, an experience that every human must go through if they are to grow up. There’s value in that, a value that many overlook.

There are scraps of paper everywhere, filled with all sorts of writing, often of questionable quality but all of it was given to me, was written for me, and how in the world could I get rid of that?

I’ve got one dresser drawer devoted to the things I find in classrooms- pieces of dried chewing gum, wads of scribbled-on paper, run-down pencils... all given freely, with the cleaning staff expressing their gratitude in the safest terms they can muster, and so much of it still has use, still has a utility that the students who left these items behind just don’t appreciate.

Most people seem to have no idea how much they leave behind in the course of their everyday life... but that suits me just fine, it means there’s more for me to gather when they’ve moved on.

A small handful of people have figured out my love of the discarded, the little-used- anything I can get, really. I’ve made a number of deals along the way with them. They probably think me a fool to be doling out charms in exchange for the things they’d barely miss anyway. But they can think I’m a fool all they want, so long as they keep coming back, keep taking meager bits of magic and giving me what I so desire.

I will confess that I have not been entirely forthright with some of my description here. Some students call me Pigpen, it is true- those who pay me little heed, those who believe I am one of their own. But the clever ones, the Involved ones, the ones who Know?

They call me The Collector.

And that I am.


End file.
